[Say it, he thinks, the sharpness of his own unspoken demand a terrible contrast to how small she is on the floor beside his perch - how open her heart is to him, and the gentleness of her aching fingers. Better that Ilde speak truthfully in his presence, selfishness embraced rather than spurned; if he dislikes what she asks for, he'll refuse. That much is his right.
The rest is hers.
He inhales once, cooly. Exhales. Tips his chin downwards by degrees to get a glance at her from across the curve of his own shoulder. Like this, their broodmates are far, too distant to intrude and for once, he's thankful of the fact.]
no subject
The rest is hers.
He inhales once, cooly. Exhales. Tips his chin downwards by degrees to get a glance at her from across the curve of his own shoulder. Like this, their broodmates are far, too distant to intrude and for once, he's thankful of the fact.]